


Kismet

by Ophelia_Tagloff



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, Infidelity, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Tagloff/pseuds/Ophelia_Tagloff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Cassandra have a history. When they meet years later, can they let the past go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kismet noun, often capitalized /kiz-met/ : a power that is believed to control what happens in the future - Merriam Webster Dictionary
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: This tale is going to span the course of several months in the characters’ lives, and it is a very grown up story. Our dear Tom will not always be the knight in shining armor and OFC will not always be his damsel in distress. So, if mature themes, angst, characters with real emotional baggage bother you, you may want to pass on reading this. Also, for the sake of my own ease, I have not based locations and events on real life chronology. Suspend your disbelief before you enter. -OT
> 
> Edited to add: I decided to go back in and make the chapters shorter, I'm sorry if it's confusing. I am going to break Tahiti up into a few smaller chapters and post the next shorter chapters soon. -OT

Tom sighed heavily and tossed the book he had been reading on to the warm, clean sand beside him. He had planned this as a getaway to relax and recharge before his next film. But, he hadn’t been feeling very relaxed since he had seen Cassandra.

  
He shifted in the wooden chaise he was lounging in and looked down at his tanning legs, stretched out bare below his board shorts. His glance fell to the beautiful young woman to his right that was stretched out on her stomach, sunning herself. Her bikini top was untied and bunched up under her pert breasts. Her ass was high and tight under the scrap of fabric that passed as the bottom of her bathing suit.

  
_Shoshi._

  
Shoshi had seemed like a good idea to him five months ago, when he had met her after a fashion show in New York. She was young, beautiful and uncomplicated. He was rushed, over committed and, although he didn’t like to admit it, at times lonely.

  
Extending her hand to introduce herself, “Short for Shoshana,” she’d explained. He’d charmed her and found her infinitely receptive. Shoshi was refreshing, easy. They’d consummated their relationship mere hours after they’d met, and she’d been there for him since. For a talk, a fuck, a travelling companion. Shoshi never demanded anything from him, perfectly content to play whatever part in his life he wanted her to.

  
"Tom, baby," Shoshi muttered, her head facing away from him.

  
"Yeah, darling?"

  
"Can you get my I pod out of my bag?"

  
"Sure." Tom fished it out, complete with earbuds, and Shoshi pressed the little nubs into her ears. She selected a song and turned the volume up. So much so that Tom could easily hear the tinny sound of pop music. She turned away from him again and huffed as she laid her head back down.

  
Tom had invited her to Tahiti two weeks ago and they’d been having a wonderful time, laying about, drinking together, and fucking as much as he wanted, which was a lot.

  
Then last night, his relaxing vacation took a sudden nose dive. He rested his head on the back of the chaise and pressed his eyes closed behind his Ray Bans, replaying the memory for the umpteenth time.

  
Sitting in the resort restaurant, dinner with Shoshi. They were seated close to each other over the table. Tom’s fingers toying with one of her auburn curls while they whispered together over champagne. Tom knowing that as soon as dessert had been served, Shoshi and he would retire to their shared suite and she’d allow him to do whatever he wanted.

  
He’d brought a curl to his face, and pressed it against his lips. Shoshi giggled. But it was another laugh that had played over her’s that had caught Tom’s attention. In that instant, he felt his spine prickle and knew whose face he’d see if he turned around. He wasn’t going to look her way, and fought it with every impulse, his neck muscles tensing. She laughed again, full and loud, and like an ill-fated classical hero, that laugh had offered him no reasonable escape. He was forced to turn.

  
Cassandra sat at the bar, wrapped in a red dress, her shapely legs crossed at the knee. Her dress cascaded over her thigh temptingly. She leaned toward the well-dressed man who was talking to her, brushing her fingers over his tan forearm. He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered something she found amusing. She let out another throaty laugh.

  
Tom returned his gaze to Shoshi, distracted, but each laugh pulled his attention back to Cassandra, her head thrown back, exposing her slim neck. Her companion slid his hand up her bare arm, cupping her shoulder and drawing his thumb over it. Cassandra smiled back at him, talking softly, her fingertips tracing the swell of her cleavage.

  
She stepped off the bar stool and the man followed suit, his hand possessively on her lower back. They weaved through the seated diners and drew close to Tom’s table.

  
Cassandra looked down at him, then over to Shoshi and back at him, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow in question. Her voice was steady when she acknowledged him, “Tom.”

  
His regarded her blankly, “Cassandra.”

  
She titled her head and smirked. She knew she had gotten to him. Tom wasn’t sure how, but he could see by the delight in her eyes that she sure as hell was aware of it.

  
She walked past him in a light cloud of perfume, her hips rolling with each step.

  
Dinner had finished quickly, as Tom hadn’t been in the mood for playful banter, and upon returning to their suite, he had slammed Shoshi up against the back of the door and groped her roughly. His mouth ravaged hers, his fingers twisted her wrist behind her back, pinning it. He shoved his thigh under her skirt, and pulled her onto it, legs spread.

  
"Ride it, slut, " he growled at her.

  
Shoshi giggled, “Really?” She rolled her eyes, then biting her heavily glossed lip began to grind against his thigh.

  
Tom sighed, he wanted to spar with her, to struggle for dominance. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, scraping his teeth over her soft neck.

  
"Maybe I should bite you," he muttered against her skin, "Brand you with my teeth."

  
"If you like," mewled.

  
"I want you to fight back, Shoshi," he practically whined, "push against me. Make me work to claim you."

  
"I can’t fake not wanting you, baby," she smiled sweetly, palming his cheek and looking into his eyes.

  
Tom sighed then smiled weakly and pressed a heated kiss against her mouth, trying to stoke some of the fire that he needed. He needed to singe her with his passion. The kiss ended, leaving him panting.

  
Shoshi smiled softly and brushed her soft fingers over his jaw, “I’m already yours, Tom. Just take me.”

  
Tom groaned, his emotions split between desire and exasperation. He pulled her to a nearby table and bent her sharply at the waist, yanking her dress up and knickers down in quick, jerky motions.

  
Tom rubbed her perfect ass, then kneaded both cheeks, his fingers dipped lower to her hairless cunt. “Let’s see how wet I’ve gotten you, whore.”

  
She giggled.

  
"You’re kind of killing the mood here, love," Tom sighed, his head drooping.

  
"I’m sorry," she said, "It’s just the dirty talk. It’s funny to me, so out of your normal character. I’m okay. I’ll be serious." He could tell by her tone she was trying to keep a straight face.

  
Tom exhaled slowly. Alright, lets try this again. He kicked her legs apart and placed his feet on the inside of each of them, his own legs wide, keeping her from closing and covering herself. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away, then unfastened his pants, letting them fall with his boxers to his knees where they wouldn’t slide any further due to his stance.

  
His cock was hard and dripping, he brushed it along her slit. Shoshi backed up into him, eager as ever. He impaled her fully in a quick thrust, and she moaned. Tom splayed his hands over her slim hips and held her tight against him.

  
"You’re always so eager, Shoshi. So ready for my cock, aren’t you?"

  
"Yes," she purred.

  
"I’m going to fuck you hard and fast now, but don’t you dare cum until I’ve told you to, do you understand?"

"Sure, Tom," he heard the smile in her voice.

  
"Damn it, Shoshi, please?" he whispered, "Play this game with me?"

  
"I’m trying. It’s just silly," she sighed, "Just fuck me already."

  
Tom began to move inside her, first rolling his pelvis, then pistoning hard, his hips slapping against her ass. She began to mumble a constant stream of encouragement in her soft girlish voice.

  
"That’s right baby, come on, fuck me. You’re sooo good. Come on. That’s it."

  
Tom growled and leaned over her, grabbing her by the shoulder for more leverage.

  
"It’s so good Tom. You’re so good. I love it. Don’t stop."

  
_Fuck. Will this girl ever shut up?_

  
Tom brought his large hand to Shoshi’s mouth, feeling more than a slight pang of guilt, but needing something else. More roughness, intensity. Definitely less talking. He quieted her, holding his hand there, her muffled moans spurring him on. She moved beneath him, writhing against his much larger frame.

  
"Oh fuck. I’m going to cum," he gritted out, slamming into her, "Take it, whore. Take it all. Oh god."

  
He spilled into her, finding her accommodating as always, and collapsed against her back.

  
Gentlemanly regret soon crept in. Tom kissed her shoulder blade.

  
"Sorry if that was a bit rough, love."

  
"It’s perfectly fine," she answered, "Here. Let me up."

  
Tom rose and she sat on the table, facing him. He stood between her legs and leaned in for a kiss, which she returned, her fingers at play in his hair.

  
"I think I owe you an orgasm, darling," he said as he dipped his head to her neck, his hand caressed her inner thigh.

  
"You know that’s not necessary."

  
"But I want to. So badly," he spoke against her clavicle, kissing her there. It was the truth. But, they’d had this exchange before and Tom had a feeling she would win out, "Let me make you cum."

  
"Tom it’s ok, I don’t need to. I think I’ll just grab a shower."

  
Shoshi had hopped down from the table and walked into the bathroom. Tom’s gaze followed her, his mouth agape until his eyes were met with the closing door.

  
She’d slept soundly next to him, while he’d stared at the ceiling, discontent.

  
The feeling had stayed with him all night and again that next morning, and here he was on the beach next to Shoshi, who was so good on paper. He tried to get comfortable on the chaise, remembering the moment he’d realized that it wasn’t Shoshi he was thinking of last night as they’d fucked.

  
Sublime erotic images flashed unwelcome through his mind. Cassandra yanking on his hair, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. Cassandra backing him onto the sofa and lifting her skirt before settling herself around his rigid cock. Pinning Cassandra over the coffee table. She’d buck hard against him. giving as good as she got.

  
Tom felt a heaviness gather in his groin. He ran his fingers through his hair and shifted in his seat. It would do no good to continue this line of thought. Lusting after the one woman who always rebuffed him.

  
Tom picked up the novel again and flipped the pages, his eyes not registering the words. Cassandra was on the beach today, her little oasis set up no more than fifty yards from his. It would be his penance that she’d be here after last night, almost like she knew. She always gave the impression that she knew everything. Every dirty thought, every secret fantasy. She could draw you in with a smile then cut you with a look.

  
She was tossing a Frisbee, playing with a different man than the one she’d bedded last night. This boy couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. He had a lean, muscular, hairless chest. His dark brown hair was a messy mop on his head.

  
They tossed the disc effortlessly back and forth, laughing. That unmistakable laugh. Cassandra looked stunning. Her modest two piece suit somehow more sexy than … no, he couldn’t think like that. She ran to catch the disc, the over-sized white shirt billowing out behind her. Her hair fell in soft brown waves around her as she walked toward her companion. They met and the middle and he high-fived her. Who high-fives a woman like that?

  
Tom’s discontent sparked into something more acute.

  
"Tom? Can you rub some lotion on my back?"

  
He looked down at Shoshi, “Of course, darling.”

  
He warmed some sunscreen in his hands and began massaging it into her back. Cassandra laughed again and like a fool he had to turn and watch her. She was walking with the boy to collect their belongings. As her legs moved, her fleshy upper thighs shook in the most womanly way. Tom felt his cock twitch, then with brow furrowed, turned his attention back to his companion. He set to work massaging her lovely, trim back.

  
The laughed beckoned him again, this time closer, signaling the approach of its owner. He was not going to look up. Not this time.

  
"Tom," Cassandra greeted him.

  
_Shit._ “Cassandra,” he schooled his face into an easy smile. She was free of any makeup and even with the addition of some fine lines, looked young, like when he used to call her Cassie, “How are you?”

  
"Very well," the man-pup beside her shuffled on his feet. "This is Tyler."

  
Tom nodded at him, “How’s it going, man?”

  
"Great, you?"

  
_Of course you’re great. She’s taking you back to her room._

Tom simply smiled, then suddenly remembered his manners, “Oh, and this is Shoshi.”

  
Shoshi lifted her head sleepily and waved, “Hi.”

  
"Nice to meet you, dear," Cassandra said.

  
Cassandra raised a sarcastic eyebrow at Tom. “ _Shoshi?_ " she mouthed silently.

  
Tom’s smile became uneasy. “How long are you here for?”

  
"A few days. Just a quick getaway."

"Right," Tom replied awkwardly.

  
"Well then.." she smirked, "You and..uh.. _Shoshi_ have fun.”

  
Cassandra and her boy toy walked up the beach toward the hotel, laughing.

  
Shoshi sighed. “She seemed nice.”


	2. Chapter 2

  
Cassandra stood on the balcony of her suite, smart phone held to her ear.  
  
Tyler called from the sitting room, “So, what are our plans for the afternoon?”

  
"Give me a minute, will you, sweetie? I’m on a call to London."

  
The party at the other end picked up the phone.

  
"Luke…"

  
"Hello, Cassie. How’s Tahiti?"

  
"Cut the crap, Luke. What’s he doing here?"

  
"I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Your young ward, Luke. You’ve let him off his leash. What’s he doing here?"

"Tom? I imagine the same thing as you." Luke hedged.

  
"You’re getting rusty, Windsor. You knew I was here for a long weekend. There are plenty of other beaches you could have sent him to. At least a different resort."

  
"I don’t control his every move, Cassie."

  
Cassandra laughed, “You and I both know that’s hardly true.”

  
"Listen, Cass. Just because you two have a history.."

"We don’t have a history, Luke." Cassandra interrupted. _Not any history that matters._

  
"Well, whatever it is, don’t let it ruin your vacation and for fuck’s sake don’t get him all stressed out. I was hoping he’d come back mellowed out for a change. Not so hyper."

  
"God forbid I stress Tommy out."

  
Luke chuckled warmly. “Bitch. How’s business?”

  
"You know PR, Luke, how it is. Selling my soul to Satan on a daily basis."

  
"Have a drink with me next time you’re in London?" he asked.

  
"Alright, but it’s your treat."

  
"My pleasure," Luke answered, then paused as if he was considering something, "Cassie, do me a favor?"

  
"Sure, Luke."

  
"Don’t sleep with him."

  
Cassandra snorted, “Believe me, Luke, that is the last thing I’ll do.”

  
She ended the call and looked at Tyler who was brooding on the sofa. He flipped through a magazine. She knew that by rights, she should be spending time with him, but seeing Tom had left her feeling restless. She needed time to think.

  
"You know what, sweetheart?" she said to him, "I think I’m going to head down to the sauna."

  
"Whatever you say," Tyler replied. He got up and kissed her cheek, then walked to the door. "I’ll be at the bar."

  
"Don’t drink too much!" Cassandra called after him.

  
"And risk getting in trouble with you already? No thanks." Tyler grinned, closing the door behind him.

  
Cassandra didn’t go to the sauna. She brought her laptop and phone to a table in the courtyard and threw herself into some work, knowing that business always proved to keep her focused on the important. Even on vacation, there were calls to return and emails to reply to.

  
She was just finishing up a call with her assistant when a long lean shadow passed over the table.

  
 _Next time, I’m going to a different island._

  
The shadow was still, it’s owner hovering over the table.

  
"Just have a seat," she said without looking up.

  
Tom pulled out a chair and sat down, his knees wide. His elbow propped on the table, he brought his fingers up to toy with the stubble along his jaw. He looked incredible as always. The blue shirt he wore was open two buttons more than was appropriate. His summer weight trousers moved and pulled in the most delicious ways. His hair was mussed, his skin bronzed.

  
 _This is going to be bad for me. Get control of yourself, Cass._

  
He continued to look at her, lying in wait, she was sure. Tom was a master at the game of manipulating women. This was a game she couldn’t afford to play. Even if she won, she’d lose.

  
Cassandra picked up her reading glasses and put them on. She focused on her computer screen.

  
"Is there a reason you’re here, Tom?"

  
"You wear glasses now?"

  
Cassandra sighed and ignored his question, “Answer the question.”

  
"In Tahiti? Or at this table?"

  
"Both, I suppose," Cassandra answered, not looking at him. _I will not look at him._

  
"I came here to relax. You’re making it very difficult."

"It’s a big resort, you don’t have to see me." she said.

  
"Have a drink with me tonight."

  
"Don’t you have to babysit Shashimi?"

  
"Shoshi."

"Whatever."

  
"She goes to bed early."

  
"I bet she does," she scoffed, unable to keep from laughing.

  
Tom smiled along with her, “Listen, I’m trying to be nice here.”

  
"To what end, Tom? You’re here with someone," she sighed, meeting his gaze.

  
"I’m not trying to get you into bed, Cassandra. That ship has sailed."

  
"Wow, Tom, succinct as always."

  
"You’re here with someone as well, from what I’ve noticed. Several someones, as a matter of fact."

  
"The gentleman at the bar was nothing to me, not that its any of your business."

"And the boy you’re with now?"

  
"Is not up for discussion."

  
Tom inhaled and raised his eyebrows, he tried and failed to keep from grinning, “So where is he?”

  
"Who?"

  
"The boy."

  
"He went for a drink."

  
"And left you unattended?"

  
Cassandra closed her eyes. He was really pressing her buttons. She removed her glasses and leveled a stare at him, “Unlike some girls, I don’t require constant supervision.”

  
Tom laughed heartily as Cassandra glared at him, then settling down, looked her over a little too closely, “No, I’d say you don’t.”

  
She felt his eyes moving over her neck, her bare decolletage, lower.  
This is what he’s good at, thought Cassandra. This is where he excels. Undressing woman with a mere glance, knock them off-kilter and keep them that way.

  
 _Not this girl, Tom. Not then, not now, and not ever._

  
Cassandra wouldn’t wilt under his probing eyes, preferring to meet them in challenge when they returned to her face.

  
He finally spoke, his tone lower, “Have a drink with me. Right now.”

  
"Why?"

  
He raised one eyebrow his eyes drifted over the flush on her chest. “Because you look like you need one.”

  
 _Bastard._ “Tom, you know what? I think I’m good.”

  
"What are you afraid of? We’re old friends."

  
 _Not exactly._

  
"What’s one drink? We’ll get caught up and then you can go back to avoiding me."

  
"I’m not avoiding you," Cassandra practically harrumphed.

  
Tom bit his lip and smiled wide. “Then it’s sorted. We’ll head down to the bar. Stow your work and let’s go.”

  
Ah, he’s trapped me. Any conversation with Tom had always left Cassandra feeling jostled and this was no exception. It was a constant hedge maze of double entendres and changing inflections. And his damned charm. He had the uncanny knack of making you feel like the only woman in the room. The only woman on the planet.

  
Tom could look at you in such a way that you’d feel your heart expanding to fill up your entire chest, then past that cavity, swelling up and up until your entire aura was nothing but your pulsing, beating heart. You’d bask in his orbit as long as his gaze rested on you, then another pretty thing would glint, catching his eye, and he’d be off to pursue that, leaving you as nothing but a throbbing, exposed muscle. The man was lethal.

  
Cassie thought back to when they were young together. The nights she had gone back to her little flat and closing her bedroom door had stood in front of the mirror. Wide eyed and blushing, she’d ask her reflection, “ _Was he flirting with me?_ " Then she’d shake her head roughly to clear her thoughts, deciding first no, and then quickly realizing that it didn’t matter anyway, given her life circumstances.

  
But was then, when she was young and hungry in her twenties. When she’d worked London hard, first trying to make due, then trying to make a name for herself. She had succeeded, and now at nearly forty, she had no interest in Tom’s boyish games, or anymore weakness for his boyish charms. She had evolved past him. The thought gave her comfort and she held on to it as she packed up her belongings into her canvas tote and stood.

  
"Fine, Tom," she said, looking down at him, "One drink. Then I go back to enjoying my vacation and you go back to Shashimi."

  
"Shoshi."

  
"Sure. Whatever."


	3. Chapter 3

  
The bar was an outdoor affair - more of a cabana, really - a large thatch structure with open sides. Umbrella-topped tables were gathered around it, their bright colored fabric tops flopping in the breeze. Tom stepped aside to allow Cassandra to walk up to the bar first, his hand reached out reflexively to palm her lower back as she moved through the sparsely occupied tables. A hairs-breadth away, he clutched his hand into a fist and dropped it to his side, lame.

  
God, he wanted to touch her. She was completely fucking with his equilibrium. He’d not seen her in years and she had been so far out of his system that he’d barely given her a second thought. Eighteen hours she’d been back in his life and he felt like a goofy golden-haired kid again, with arms and legs too long for his body, not sure what to do with them or her.

_Oh, I know what to do with her now._

  
Hardly relevant, he reminded himself, as he watched her body sway in front of him on her way to the bar. She isn’t back in my life. She wasn’t in my life to begin with. Not in any reciprocal way. Save for that one night.

  
They reached the bar and Tom watched her hop onto the rattan stool, situating herself, she leaned in the corner between it’s arm and woven back. A gust of her fragrance filled his nostrils. She smelled like flowers and vanilla.

  
 _Fuck._

  
Cassandra looked at him straight on.

  
"So, you’ve got me here, Tom. Let’s get the drinks, then."

  
She was eager to get this over with and get back to her young lover, obviously. Tom ordered two large, fruity beach cocktails. The bigger they are, the longer she stays. The bartender sat both down in front of them, and Cassandra pulled hers close, gently setting the flower that adorned it aside. She picked up the skewer of speared fruit that garnished it and caught the end of it between her teeth. She closed her mouth around it and dragged it out, laving off the liquid. One by one, she pulled the fruit off the wooden stick, slowly, then bringing each juicy morsel between her lips, sucked - sucked - and popped it in her mouth, her eyes closing as she tasted each one.

  
So this was the way it was going to go, she was going to torture him. Not much has changed, after all.

  
Thankfully she didn’t make eye contact while she was busy seducing the fruit, and Tom was free to stare as he pleased. His chin was resting on his hand with fingers draped over his mouth. He was giving off the air of casual patience, even thoughtfulness, at least he hoped. Thank god for his acting ability. He shifted on his own stool and adjusted his trousers, they suddenly felt a tad too constrictive.

  
He cleared his throat and tried not to let his mind wander.

  
"So you’ve done pretty well for yourself, I’ve heard. Public Relations," Tom began.

  
"You’ve heard correctly."

  
"And you like it?"

  
"I’m good at it."

  
"That’s not what I asked."

  
"Yes, I suppose I like it. It’s fast paced, challenging."

  
"You always were up for a challenge."

  
Cassandra’s brow furrowed for a moment, then relaxed. She didn’t answer, just smiled blankly.

  
Christ, she wasn’t giving him much to go on.

  
"I’ve been pretty busy myself," Tom said, a little too loud for his own liking.

  
"I know. I’ve been following your career."

  
"Really?" Tom smiled. She’s been keeping an eye on him all this time?

  
"Of course. Luke is a master at what he does. Whenever I’m in London, we get together…"

"You still see Luke?" Tom interrupted, surprised by her admission.

"Of course, we’re friends."

  
"Oh. I just thought…"

  
"Thought what?"

  
"Nothing. Go on."

  
Cassandra inhaled deeply, “Yes, whenever I see Luke and we discuss business, your name inevitably comes up.”

  
"And what does he say?"

  
"That you’re a handful."

  
Tom tossed his head back and laughed genuinely. Cassandra smiled back at him. It felt good.

  
"Maybe I need to hire someone new then," Tom smiled widely, "are you taking on any new clients?"

  
"At this point, I don’t think I could handle you," she laughed.

  
They shared a smile for a long moment, each looking into the other’s eyes. Then something settled in, a realness that wasn’t there a second ago.

Cassandra broke the gaze and stirred her cocktail before taking a healthy sip. Tom pulled his drink to him, placing the flower on the bar and offering Cassandra the kabob of fruit.

  
"Would you like this? You seemed to really enjoy the other."

  
"No. Thank you."

  
"So, how long are you here for?" Tom asked, taking a gulp of his drink.

  
"Four days. Three more, now."

  
"And then?"

  
"I go back to New York. Tyler goes…" She broke off suddenly.

  
"He goes where?"

  
"Graduate school."

  
"Oh." _She’s fucking a college student?_ “So just one last hurrah before he’s gone?”

  
"I guess you could say that, yes."

  
There was a loud chorus of laughter from behind Tom and Cassandra looked over his shoulder to see the source. She smiled warmly. Tom shifted in his seat and turned. There was the boy himself, all tan and shaggy haired, with a group of his peers. Hooting and cheering, they were in a match of table tennis.

  
Tom turned back to Cassandra. The look on her face was unnameable, but what Tom couldn’t label, he could certainly react to. The emotion that ebbed in him was uninvited and perplexing. Jealousy.

  
Cassandra raised her arm and waved at the boy. He came striding over and stood at her side, grinning down at her.

"I wasn’t expecting to see you here," he said.

  
"Behaving yourself, Ty?"

  
"As much as possible."

  
Tom watched the exchange with his jaw clenched. He didn’t want to give Cassandra the satisfaction of seeing him seethe. He was always the one traipsing after her like a love sick puppy, even back then. Especially back then.

  
"So what did you do this afternoon?" Tyler asked her, weaving slightly.

  
"I worked. Then I decided to come down here for a drink with Tom."

  
Tyler looked Tom’s way and popped his chin in greeting, “Hey, dude.”

  
"Hey… _dude_.” Tom replied sardonically. He tried to catch Cassandra’s eye to give her a look much like the one she had when he’d introduced Shoshi to her, but to no avail. Cassandra’s eyes were locked on the younger man’s face.

  
She narrowed her gaze, “How much have you had to drink, Ty?”

  
"A few. Seriously, though. I’m legal. I’m fine."

  
"If you say so. If you need to rest, head up to the suite," Cassandra sounded wary.

  
"You take good care of me," he mumbled and kissed Cassandra on the top of her head.

  
Tom was about to open his mouth to say something when another voice caught his attention.

  
"Tom! There you are!" Shoshi squealed as she scurried up to him. She draped a toned arm around Tom’s shoulder and pressed her cheek to his, "I’m just back from the spa. Look at my mani-pedi."

  
Shoshi splayed her hand out and raised her sandaled foot for him to admire.

  
"Lovely, Shoshi," he said.

  
"I also had a massage and a facial and they did the thing with the cucumbers on the eyes," she prattled on like a school girl.

  
Tom smiled at her, close lipped. He glanced over at Cassandra. She was stifling a giggle, he could see it. Shoshi nuzzled his cheek with her nose and gave him a peck.

  
Cassandra averted her glance.

  
"Shoshi," Tom began, "you remember Cassandra and Tyler from this morning?"

  
Shoshi wiggled her fingers at them and smiled, “Hi.”

  
Tom watched the other pair. Cassandra’s eyes were unreadable. Tyler, for his part, was obviously emboldened by drink. His eyes ran over Shoshi’s body hungrily.

  
Tom fought back the urge to slap him. Not out of possessiveness. Shoshi and he had an arrangement. She was free to do as she pleased. No, this was something else. Something he didn’t want to ponder too much at the moment.

  
Tyler caught Tom staring daggers at him “Welp,” the boy began, “I’m going to go get another drink and see who else wants to challenge me to a match of table tennis.”

  
"I’ll challenge you, mate," the words were out of Tom’s mouth before they formed fully in his head.

  
Shoshi clapped and giggled, jumping up and down.

  
Cassandra shot Tom a withering look, then turned her attention to Tyler, “Ty, honey. I think you’ve had enough. Why don’t you go back to the suite?”

  
"C’mon, it’ll be fun.." he smiled at Cassandra, then walked away.

  
Tom stood and started after Tyler. Cassandra grabbed him by the sleeve, “I don’t know what you’re on about, Tom…”

  
Tom’s eyes dropped to her mouth. She was so close to him, he could feel her breath on his face. He licked his lips and dragged his eyes up to meet hers. He winked and whispered, “C’mon it’ll be fun.”

  
Cassandra groaned and hopped off the stool. Shoshi caught Cassandra’s arm in hers and pulled her to the game table.

  
Tom already had paddle in hand when they got there. Cassandra’s face was stormy, but there was something else. A protectiveness, maybe. She was worried he was going to embarrass her little boy toy. Well, if he wasn’t man enough, maybe he shouldn’t be playing with the grown ups.

  
The boy dribbled the ball between table and paddle.

  
"I have to warn you, Pops, I’ve been playing for years."

  
 _Pops?_

  
"Yes, well, as have I. Do your worst." _I am going to kick his ass._

  
The boy reared the paddle back to serve and thinking better of it turned to Cassandra, “Hey. Remember all those nights in the basement? Nothing to do but table tennis?”

  
"Yes, Ty. I remember," she replied, "Listen, I know you’re a grown man, but don’t you think it’s time to head back and sober up?"

  
"Nah, I’m good," he replied, obviously not holding his drink well, "Wow, those nights seem like yesterday. The good old days." He laughed to himself and served, hard.

  
Tom wasn’t lying when he said he’d been playing for years and somehow table tennis had become part of his skill set. He easily returned the ball and had just a split second to feel smug when the boy swung his paddle and the ball bounced back.

  
It wasn’t hard for Tyler to keep up with Tom even in his increasingly drunken state. Those nights with ‘nothing to do but table tennis’ had been paying off, although Tom saw right through that euphemism. He wasn’t sure why this man-child was flaunting his relationship with Cassandra. Youthful exuberance, perhaps? A desire to be the alpha male?

  
Either way, he wasn’t going to lose to the boy. Each volley Tom returned was met with Shoshi’s increasingly piercing squeals and ‘yays’, Tyler had given up on trying, content that Tom wasn’t much of a challenge, he was almost bored playing his opponent. Tom however was losing the battle to maintain his good sportsmanship, his usually affable smile was thinning.

  
Tom decided enough was enough. It was his turn to serve. He glanced at Cassandra, their eyes met and she made a move toward Tyler.

  
"Alright, bud. I think you’ve won. Time to head back."

  
Tyler whined his weaving becoming more of a sway, “One more serve, then we’ll go. Promise.”

  
Cassandra sighed, and looked at Tom. He smiled at her, raising his eyebrow.

  
Tom brought his paddle back and served, a little harder than necessary. Tyler easily swatted the ball back. Tom reached out to the side and slapped the ball. Tyler returned it with hardly any effort. Tom batted it back and somehow, through sheer luck or accident, his paddle went flying along with the ball, whacking the boy square in the forehead, right above the left eye.

  
Cassandra moved before Tyler even reacted, “Jesus Christ! Ty, are you alright?”

  
"Yeah, I’m fine I think. What the fuck happened?" He stumbled backward, and Cassandra pulled up a chair for him from a nearby table.

  
Cassandra gave Tom a cutting glare. “Tom lost control of his paddle apparently.”

  
Tom rushed to Tyler’s side and dropped to his knees, “I am really sorry, man. I didn’t mean for that to happen. At all.” He put his hand on Tyler’s forehead to examine the wound, which was now dripping blood. Cassandra angrily swatted it away.

  
"Please let me help," he said to Cassandra.

  
"I think you’ve already done enough." she returned haughtily.

  
Tyler began to laugh, “Dude. You threw your paddle at me. What is your issue, man?”

  
Shoshi’s lilting giggle cut in as well, “It was pretty funny, Tom. Why so competitive all of a sudden?”

  
Tom’s eyes met Cassandra’s, his pleading his case, her’s a stone wall. The two younger people continued joking about the freak accident while Cassandra fretted over Tyler’s wound.

  
"This is going to need stitches," she said more to herself than anyone.

  
"I’ll get the resort doctor," Tom offered.

  
"We don’t need your help, Tom," she stared him down. _If looks could kill…._

  
"Oh, Mom, relax. It’s fine." Tyler waved his hand at her, "Let Tom call the doctor."

Tom blanched.

  
 _Mom?_

  
_Mom…_

  
_Tyler is Cassandra’s son._

  
_How?_

  
_Oh shit._


	4. Chapter 4

  
Tom refilled the shot glass and looked at his watch. 1 a.m. A little less than eight hours since he had walloped Cassandra’s son with a paddle, netting the boy three stitches and netting Tom enough murderous looks to last a lifetime.

  
The night was wonderfully balmy. Tom sat on a large upstairs patio, the lone occupant, if you didn’t count the whiskey. The stars were bright and by the billion. A calming breeze rolled in off the ocean. Shoshi was fast asleep in their suite. Distant music pulsed from a party somewhere nearby. Tom tilted the bottle to see how much was left.

  
He tossed back the shot. It was his fifth or sixth, he was unsure which, and he was feeling the pleasant numbness start to set in. It wasn’t just that he had knocked the boy’s head with the paddle, it was that in doing so, he had come off as childish, small and petty. All things that may have very well been true at the moment. He just wish Cassandra hadn’t witnessed that. Why did he even care what she thought of him at this point? She’d made her lack of interest in him clear years ago. Her opinion of him mattered, that was what left him irritated with himself.

  
 _Yes. Well, you’ve definitely made an ass of yourself, Tommy. Well fucking done, mate._

  
The scraping of a chair pulled him out of his reverie.

  
Tom turned toward the sound and of course it was her, Cassandra, his thoughts had summoned her to him once again, it seemed.

  
She walked toward him a vision in white, her dress clung to her curves lightly. Her hair was pulled up high. She seemed to be floating. Perhaps I’m a little more drunk than I thought, Tom reckoned.

  
She arrived at the table and Tom stared up at her, saying nothing. She regarded the bottle of Jameson, nodding toward it.

  
"Isn’t that a little expensive to be mainlining shots from?"

  
Tom’s answer was to shrug petulantly.

  
"Listen, Tom," she began, "Tyler sent me out here to apologize. I’m sorry I was so harsh."

  
Tom poured another shot for himself, “You had every right.”

  
Cassandra motioned toward the small glass, “May I?”

  
He nodded. She picked up the glass and took the shot. She didn’t wince a bit, just exhaled slowly and bit her lower lip. Sexy. In complete control. That’s Cassandra for you.

  
She tilted the shot glass toward the bottle and nodded. He refilled it. She wasted no time in downing the second shot as straight-faced as the first.  
She chewed on her lip and met his gaze. The whisky was already flushing her cheeks. She swallowed.

  
"Alright. For a very long time, it’s been just Tyler and I against the world. He’s very special to me. He’s…"

  
Tom cut her off, “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a son?”

  
"I didn’t see how it was any of your concern."

  
"But he’s going to graduate school. That must make him.." Tom brought up his fingers to run the figures.

  
Cassandra waited for Tom to do the mental math, then smiled when she saw he had no shot given the whiskey, “He’s twenty-four. I was fifteen when I had him.”

  
Tom just looked at her. Something still wasn’t adding up, “But those years in London. All that networking you did, the parties, you never mentioned.”

  
"Why would I? Being a woman is hard enough in any business, let alone a mother. A single, formerly teen mother, no less. It was best to keep my personal and public lives separate."

  
"You hid your son all those years," he whispered.

"Fuck off, Tom," she shook her head and rolled her eyes, "I did no such thing. When I was working, I was working. When I taking care of him, I was taking care of him. You wouldn’t think twice about this if I were a man."

  
She was right of course, he knew that. It must have been hard for her. For both of them. Suddenly he remembered nights when Cassie had to go home, leave events early for no apparent reason. Refusing drinks, drugs, sex. They had all teased her about spoiling the fun. She’d had her reasons, he could see that now.

  
Tom poured another shot for himself, grimacing as it burned its way down his throat.

  
"Wow," he said, brow furrowed.

  
"What?"

  
"It just makes so much sense now."

  
"What do you mean?"

  
He poured a shot for her and slid it across the table.

  
"You. Little Miss In Control."

  
She gave him a piercing glare and readied for battle, he could tell.

  
"Don’t get pissed, Cassie. I’m just saying you had a lot on the line. It makes sense that you would play it that way. Close to the chest. Too much to lose if you didn’t."

  
"Thank you, Tom. That means a lot." She threw back the shot.

  
"At least I finally understand why you refused me that night."

  
Cassandra coughed and sputtered, alcohol spraying from her lips.

  
Tom laughed and patted her on the back, “You alright, love?”

  
She cleared her throat. Her voice was clogged, “The two are not related.”

  
"Well, what other reason could there be?"

  
She smiled sarcastically, “Oh, God. Of course. That’s so you, Tom. What possible reason could there be if a woman doesn’t jump into bed with you? Not all of us are as eager to lay all over you as Shashimi, Tom.”

  
"Shoshi. Well, what’s your reason?" He filled the glass. Cassandra reached for it.

  
"No, my turn," Tom said and downed the liquor, wincing.

  
"Shot, please," Cassandra said.

  
"Oh, no, no. What’s your reason?" He smiled wide, keeping the bottle away from her.

  
"You’re drunk."

  
"Hardly," he replied.

  
She groaned and rolled her eyes.

  
"Tell me," his grin widened.

  
Cassandra groaned and waved her hand in his direction, “This is exactly why, Tom. Look at you. You’re so fucking sure of yourself. You love keeping me off balance. I know this is a game to you. I was a game to you. Another girl to fuck and forget. That’s exactly why, in my life I didn’t have time for that shit. I don’t have time for that shit.”

  
Tom’s voice had dropped. “I never forgot about you, Cassie.”

  
"Yeah, I know," she scoffed, "that’s because we never fucked."

  
Cassandra got up and walked to the railing overlooking the ocean. Tom spoke to her from his seat, “So you’re assuming that if we had sex all those years ago..”

  
"Just shut up, Tom. It hardly matters now," she began to walk back toward her suite.

  
"What if it still matters? What if I can make it matter?" he called after her.

  
She hesitated. It was enough for him to be by her side in four quick strides.

  
He stood behind her now, close enough that his breath whisped the hairs on the back of her neck, causing them to sway. He licked his lips and brought his knuckle up to trace the gentle curve of her neck, following it down the valley of her spine. He saw gooseflesh spread like wildfire over her skin.

  
"And the guy from the bar last night, Cassie?" he whispered, "You had time for him?"

  
She turned her head away from him, “He meant nothing to me.”

  
Tom traced his fingers just under the strap of her dress, “And I mean what to you, Cassie? Something? Nothing? Less than nothing?”

  
He lifted the strap away from her shoulder and almost slid it off, before setting it back in it’s place, teasing her. Tom placed his large hand flat on her bare upper back and leaned next to her ear. He could see her pulse throbbing under the curve of her jaw. He was dying to feel it jump under his lips.

  
"I think you’re afraid, Cassie. I think you want me to fuck you right now, but you’re afraid," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

  
"I’m not afraid, Tom."

  
"You do want me, Cassie. Everywhere I touch you, you’re igniting. Your body is calling your bluff."

  
Tom bent his head and pressed a soft mouth against the pulsing vein he’d been admiring, he felt, rather than heard her moan low in her throat. “Cassie, let me. I’ve wanted you for so long. Let me finally have you.”

  
Cassandra stood stock still, barely even drawing breath, it seemed. Tom pressed her further, still whispering, “Cass, I know you’ve always wanted me. That kiss…”

  
She wheeled around to face him, causing him to step back, “That kiss, Tom, was a drunken mistake.” She waved her hand widely, gesturing all around, “I don’t know who you think you are, but this.. whatever this is.. doesn’t work on me. We fuck tonight and I guarantee we regret it tomorrow.”

  
"What if we don’t?" he answered her back, his voice rising.

  
Cassandra laughed almost cruelly, she began stalking toward him, backing him up toward the railing, “Don’t be childish, Tom. Wait. I’m sorry, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. You are fucking childish. You have a woman, a model no less, in your suite, Tom. If you need to fuck, go wake her up.”

  
"She is a friend, that I occasionally have sex with. That’s all."

"Wow, you’re a regular Prince Charming, aren’t you? No wonder Luke has his work cut out for him."

  
"There’s something between you and I. There always has been."

  
"You’re delusional," she turned to walk away again.

  
"Then kiss me, Cassie. Kiss me and prove me wrong," he called after her retreating figure.

  
Cassandra stopped for a split second, then turned on her heel and strode toward him. Without any preamble whatsoever, she put each of her small hands on the side of his face and pulled his mouth down to meet hers in a rough kiss.

  
Tom’s body erupted. What started out as a tight lipped press of her mouth against his became yielding under his hands as he snaked his arms around her lush body. She bowed her body against his, pinning him against the railing, her hands tangling roughly in his hair. He brought his fingers up to cup her jaw and she moaned into his mouth. He took that as an invitation to slide his tongue along hers, and she arched against him further as he tasted her.

  
She pulled back and nipped at his lower lip, tugging it between her teeth. _I knew she would._ Their eyes met for long seconds, still panting from the kiss. Cassandras pupils were blown black, betraying her arousal. In that moment, the realness they had run from earlier returned.

  
There was a part of Tom’s brain that wanted to tease her, to flaunt that fact that yes, she’d been wanting him as much as he’d wanted her all this time. He thought in that instant of telling her - I knew you were bluffing, Cassie. You want me. And now I’m going to have you.

  
But the sensations of having her tight up against him overwhelmed all other thoughts, save for the fear that she’d walk straight away if he spoke at all. He turned her so she was pinned against the railing in his stead and leaned to capture her mouth again in a hungry kiss.

  
Their lips played against one another, fighting for dominance. Tom dropped his hand to grip her ass roughly, dragging her leg bent over his thigh. He was nestled firmly against her sex and he ground his cock into her, eliciting a gasp from her mouth. She yanked hard at his hair by way of emphasis, causing him to hiss through his teeth.

  
He caught her wrist quickly and used the leverage to spin her so her back was to him. His stance was wide, he easily held her in place with his thighs pressed against her hips, allowing his hands to roam where they pleased.

  
He brought both straps of the dress down at once, allowing them to hang limp over her arms. Scraping his teeth over her shoulder, he marveled at how her body responded to his touch. Each caress earned him a moan, a fresh crop of gooseflesh, all the while her body squirmed against his, her ass grinding against his already rigid cock.

  
"Tell me you want me, Cassie." One large palm slid up her neck and pressed into the points of her jaw, tilting her head back against his chest, "Tell me you want me to fuck you."

  
"Never," she sighed, arching into his palm as he cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. Her hands moved to the back of his head seeking purchase to yank his curls again - hard.

  
"Ah! Fuck! Say you want me, Cass." His fingers were busy gathering up her skirt. She was already angling her hips into the inevitable onslaught.

  
"I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction." She widened her own stance, spreading her thighs when his fingers grazed over her lace knickers. He slid his entire hand down against her cunt, cupping her roughly and pulling her tight against him. He split her crease with one long finger and found her creamy wet. Tracing the folds on either side of her little bud, he teased her as she tried to rock her hips into his touch, craving direct friction.

  
He chuckled softly and nipped at her ear, “I think its you who needs the satisfaction, love. Tell me, shall I make you cum?”

"If you think you can," she challenged him and he laughed darkly. Without a word, he slipped a finger deep into her and pumped her slowly before sliding another in with it. He pressed his palm hard against her clit, allowing the thrusting motion of his fingers to provide the friction she craved. Cassandra’s mouth was open in a silent ‘o’, her head thrown back with her hands pulled up and wound behind his head, clutching at him.

  
"It looks like I can, Cassie. I’m going to make you cum so hard, you see stars," he gritted in her ear. One slick finger withdrew from her core to polish the little jewel and Cassie pulled her hips back from his touch.

  
"Too much," she breathed, bucking away from his hand and jerking back against his painfully stiff cock.

  
"Ah, I don’t think so, love," he muttered and dipped his finger in to moisten it. He slipped it over and around her clit again, his other hand busy at her breast, kneading. She was pliant against him, her supple body at once moving against his and also somehow with it. Her fingernails drew sharp, stinging lines across the back of his neck where she gripped him.

  
He felt the little bud begin to retreat and pressed his thumb into the swollen flesh above it to force it to stand ready for him. He brought his wet finger directly over the head repeatedly causing her to twitch against him, her legs were quivering - at this rate he might have to hold her up.

  
"You’re so close, Cass. Give in. Give to me. You want to, don’t you?" he crooned in her ear.

  
"No," she moaned, pulling his hair tightly, his head was nestled in the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

  
"Mmmm, no? Of course you don’t, but you have to don’t you?"

  
Cassandra whined. Tom could feel it vibrating against his chest. Her ass was pressing against his crotch, moving against his as she rode his hand. He was aching for her, the weight of her against him was so damn _good_.

  
He needed to feel her fall apart through his fingers.

  
"Cassandra, you are so wet," he spoke against her cheek. She was straining to keep a part of herself away from him. Her brow was dotted with delicate pearls of sweat. One small droplet gathered and slid down the curve of her neck. Tom greedily sucked at it, his mouth pulling hard at the tender skin, realizing that he was nursing at her neck sure to leave a gaudy purple mark.

  
Her whine broke into a primal groan and he worked that fragile skin with his mouth even more, matching the rhythm to the pace her hips set as she fucked his fingers.

  
He caught her earlobe between her teeth and pulled, “Just cum, Cassandra. You crave being fucked like this. You need it, don’t you? Tell me, did he fuck you like this last night?”

  
Her panting was his only answer.

  
"Tell me, or I’ll stop,"

"No! Don’t stop, please…" she cried.

  
"Then tell me, did he fuck you like this?"

  
"No.." she cried softly. He could feel her cunt tightening. The faint sensations of her flesh firming up.

  
"Oh, you are exquisite like this, so needy. You are going to cum for me, and it is going to shatter you, isn’t it?"

  
"Fuck.. Tom…yes!"

  
His name on her lips - cried out in pleasure nonetheless - sent a jolt straight to his already painful erection and his control faltered as he ground hard against her ass. His two talented fingers angled roughly inside her and ruthlessly plunged, pressing into her supple core. He cold feel her seizing up around him and her entire body went rigid save for her hands and mouth, which were busy at their own work, pulling at his hair and chanting a steady stream of obscenities mixed with his name

  
She went slack in his arms, twitching slightly as he moved his fingers from her to caress her hips under her dress.

  
"Cassie. That’s was…"

  
She laughed quietly, more of a pattern of breath than an actual sound, “Yes, it was.”

  
Tom’s hands still under her dress, he cupped her hips and pressed her flush against him. She turned her face to his, eyes wide. She was heavily flushed, her lips bruised and red from his mouth and the gnawing of her own teeth as he’d brought her off. Her hair was coming out of the knot she’d had it tied in, the freed tendrils were curled from her sweat. Her eye makeup was smeared and smoky. She had never been more appealing to him.

  
He licked his lips and started grabbing fistfuls of her skirt slowly. He arched an eyebrow in silent question. He felt her breath quicken against his face.

  
Tom leaned in to kiss her, pausing just a moment to make an attempt at reading her eyes but then her mouth parted and her pink tongue ran along the inner curve of her bottom lip. With that, he was lost again. His mouth crashed down on hers and she returned his passion, cycling it through her body and feeding it back to him.

  
Cassandra’s hands went under her dress and brushed his, then she wiggled as she worked her way out of her knickers. She dropped them, forgotten, on the ground and turned to him busying herself unfastening his trousers. Tom stood ineptly for a moment, breathing fast and staring down at her as her warm soft hands reached inside his boxers and - oh dear God - wrapped around his cock.

  
She stroked him slowly, as if he needed to be made ready for her. He smiled at the thought, as it was, he’d have to focus to make it last. She passed her thumb over the slit at the tip and slid the liquid around the head, teasing him. He grunted softly and chewed his lower lip, allowing it. Her other hand moved to knead his ass, pulling him to her.

  
Remembering himself, he brought his hands to his waistband and dropped his pants and boxers in one pass. Cassandras eyes wandered south to rest on his cock and started to twist so her back was facing him.

  
Tom stopped her and whispered, “No. I want to see your face …. while I fuck you.”

  
Her brow furrowed for a split second apparently surprised at his request. She leaned her hips against the railing and he hitched up her thigh as her hand snaked between their bodies and guided his cock along her slit. He bent his head and watched, jaw slack as she slid it up and down her crease, the tip just dipping inside.

  
"Cassie, please," he breathed.

  
"I should make you beg after what you just put me through."

  
He looked up and met her eyes. She smiled, her eyes mischievous.

  
"Probably," he smiled back, "but you want this as much as I do."

  
"I won’t admit to that."

  
"You don’t have to. I’ve got your scent all over my fingers and my cock in your hand, love. That’s admission enough, for now."

  
She laughed, “Cocky bastard.”

  
He smiled along with her, and pressed forward into her center, his grin giving way to a grimace of restrained pleasure as he finally felt her tight around him.

  
Cassie gripped his shoulders over his shirt and fisted the fabric. Her eyes fluttered and lips parted with a gasp. Tom rolled his hips against her and she clung tightly to him, still standing.

  
He hoisted up her other thigh and cupped her ass, lifting her as his hips rolled slowly. He wanted to savor this, but the buzzing at the base of his brain was taking over quickly and he found himself pushing harder and faster. Each thrust was met with Cassie’s soft feminine grunts, her hands scratching and pulling at his back as he held her there.

  
"Fuck. Oh God. Is that the best you can do, Tom?" she panted, her tone belying her words.

  
"You want it harder, Cassie? I should make _you_ beg…” he gritted. He didn’t wait for an answer, but plunged into her roughly, giving himself over to his lust and her soft, yielding body.

  
He felt the tightness of his impending release coiling in his belly. He wanted her to cum again, to feel her tighten around his cock. He wanted to lay her back on the table and press his face between her thighs. He wanted to savor this experience, make it last because on some level he knew that this was it. The one time they would have together. But his single-minded male instinct took over and all he could focus upon was thrusting inside her deeper, splitting her harder with his cock, her warm, lush body wrapped around his, with her fingers digging into him and her thighs tightening over his hips, and her ass, soft and round, in his hands.

  
"Jesus! Cassy.. I’m cumming. Fuck.." he moaned, arching his neck back when he peaked. He spilled into her, pulsing, filling her already wet core.  
He held her there, their shared breath calming. He rested his sweaty brow against hers.

  
"Why in the hell did we wait so long to do that?" he chuckled.

  
"No idea," she breathed, smiling.

  
He let her down gently, one foot than the other, she stumbled slightly, trying to regain her balance.

  
"You alright, love?" he asked, pulling up his trousers.

  
"Great," she sighed, "a little lightheaded, but.. yeah…great."

  
"Shall I take that as a compliment?" He gave her a rakish grin.

  
She playfully slapped his arm, “Well, yeah. I guess I should head back.”

"I’ll walk with you."

  
"No, we’d better not. Tyler’s in the suite and.."

  
He understood, “Shashimi?”

  
"Shoshi," she corrected, smiling.

"Whatever."

  
She searched his face, and ran a hand through his hair, fixing some errant curls she’d agitated.

  
"Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight," he pulled her body against his and cradled her chin in his hand, before giving her a long, slow kiss.

  
"Goodnight," she whispered and he watched her walk away.

  
Tom took a put his hands in his pockets and turned to walk in the opposite direction. Looking down, he saw her white lace knickers left carelessly on the stone floor. He bent to scoop them up and brought them to his lips for a kiss. They were still damp. He smiled and bit his lip as he put them in this pocket, before making his way back his suite.

  
***

  
Tom sat on the patio late next morning. Shoshi has been busying herself with her own pursuits at his encouragement, and he’d returned here, to the site of last night’s tryst with Cassandra. His first thought that morning had been of her.

  
He’d been hoping that they’d run into each other here, that she’d be drawn back to the patio as he had. But as one hour became two, he’d begun to doubt it.

  
Finally he gave up and called the front desk asking for her room.

  
"I’m afraid she’s checked out about a half hour ago, Mr. Hiddleston."

  
 _Of course she did. Dammit, Cassandra._

  
"Did she leave any information about where she was going?"

  
"No, sir. I apologize."

  
 _Well, that’s it then._

  
_Fuck._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Months later, Tom and Cassandra are both in London. Special Warnings: Listen, I write my sex to be explicit. If you don’t like that, this is probably not for you. Possible triggers in this chapter include: drunk sex, infidelity (sort of).
> 
> A/N: This tale is going to span the course of several months in the characters’ lives, and it is a very grown up story. Our dear Tom will not always be the knight in shining armor and OFC will not always be his damsel in distress. So, if mature themes, angst, characters with real emotional baggage bother you, you may want to pass on reading this. Also, for the sake of my own ease, I have not based locations and events on real life chronology. Suspend your disbelief before you enter. -OT

_Three Months Later: London_

 

Cassandra bustled into the bar and smiled when she saw him there.

He stood and helped her out of her coat, kissing her gently on the cheek. She took the seat opposite her companion.

 

"So. What are we drinking?" she asked.

 

"You had to do it, didn't you, Cass?" Luke blurted out from over his drink. "The one thing I asked you not to."

 

"Hello to you too, Luke. Is that scotch?" 

 

"Yes, and don't change the subject." 

 

Cassie signaled for a server and ordered Grey Goose on the rocks. 

"I'm not sure what you're looking for here, Luke. I'm also not sure why you're bringing this up now. You and I have spoken since Tahiti."

 

  
_Since Tahiti._ The words were carried more weight than Cassandra cared to admit.

 

Luke leaned forward and sat his glass on the table. He peered into her eyes, trying to read her. "I'm bringing it up now because this is the first time I've seen you since you've been back. Because when I brought it up over the phone you brushed me off and because you are not as good a liar as you think, especially when I can read your physical queues. I know something happened, Cass. I can read Tom like a book, too. It's my job."

 

Cassie smiled at the server as he delivered her drink and placed it in front of her. She let out a slow breath. 

 

"What happened was a momentary lapse of common sense."

 

"Damn it, Cass. I knew it. Whose common sense? Yours or his?"

 

Cassie snorted, "Mine. I'm fairly certain he doesn't possess any."

 

Luke shook his head, "Listen. He's in town this week."

 

"Okay? And this has what to do with me?"

 

Like sighed. "After Tahiti, he called me."

 

"Oh fuck. Of course he did."

 

Luke ignored her. "He was looking for you. Tried to get your number."

 

"I never got a call."

 

"That's because I feigned ignorance."

 

Cassandra snorted and shook her head. "It's just as well, Luke. You and I both know it."

 

Luke took a long sip of his liquor and set it on the tabletop, regarding her carefully. She busied herself swirling her drink in her tumbler, gazing into it as if trying to read an omen in the melting ice. 

 

He raised his glass to his lips to drain the last of it and stopped short, the drink hovering halfway between table and mouth, "You two aren't.."

 

"No!" Cassie assured him, "Please, Luke. We had sex. That's all."

 

Luke seemed hesitant and then downed the rest of the scotch.

 

"If you say so, Cass. But three weeks of trying to track you down after the fact doesn't sound like just sex."

 

Cassandra raised a sarcastic eyebrow, "Well, maybe I'm that good."

 

"No woman is that good," Luke grinned and gave her a sly wink.

 

"Of course you would say that, you ass."

 

Luke chuckled, "Bitch."

 

Cassie grinned back at him. 

 

Luke met her smile, "So I hear that Patrick is up for a BAFTA. You're still his publicist?"

 

"Of course."

 

"Congratulations to both of you. So, you'll be at the Savoy for the pre-party tomorrow, then?"

 

"Yes. You?"

 

"No, I've got a previous engagement." He picked up an invisible crumb from the table and flicked it onto the floor.

 

"Oh, God. He's going to be there, isn't he?"

 

"He is up for a BAFTA as well," Luke said.

 

Cassie smoothed out her cocktail napkin and placed her stirrer neatly beside it.

 

"You know what, Luke? It's fine. We're both adults."

 

"You were both adults in Tahiti, too. That's what I'm worried about."

 

"Is he bringing anyone? Forget it. Don't tell me. It doesn't matter."

 

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes, "Oh, fuck. You like him."

 

"No, Luke. I fucked him, that is all," Cassie downed the rest of her vodka and signaled for another.

 

**

 

Cassie paced around her suite in her bra and panties. She tried to calm her nerves. 

 

_Why did I ever quit smoking?_

 

It shouldn't bother her that Tom was going to be there. After all, Ben was going to be there and she didn't have any feeling at all about that. She was a woman of almost 40, she could handle herself around men.

 

It's just because it's a fresh situation, she assured herself. She had no reservations about seeing Ben because time had passed, and he was.. well, Ben. 

 

_Now why can't I compartmentalize Tom like that?_

 

It's because of the history. 

 

_What history? That one stupid night?_

 

No. It was everything leading up to that night. That night was what made the history past-tense.

 

It had been late winter 2007, Cassie had gotten herself an invite to Tom's birthday party, going as the plus one of a forgettable man named Dominic, an acquaintance of the birthday boy. She'd been able to drop Tyler with a friend of his and went off to the function dressed to make some new business connections. Little black dress, et al.

 

Cassie could still remember shrugging Dominic off repeatedly, the more drunk he had gotten, before he finally rumbled low in her ear that she could find her own way home. He was out to get laid, and if she wasn't going to put out, he'd find someone who would. 

 

She should have just left then, called a cabbie and headed home, but there were a few people still sober enough to accept her business card. She needed to get their contact info.

 

The noise grew increasingly obnoxious as Tom, the prince of the party, blew out the candles on the giant banana-shaped cake, an inside joke of which she was on the outside. Among the hoots of laughter and good-natured ribbing about "what happens in Amsterdam", she finally gave up the ghost and went to retrieve her coat from the other room.

 

She had just found her black trench in the massive pile of mostly black coats on the bed - the hallmark of a party full of twenty-somethings , _have they no hangers?_ \- when she heard the door click closed quietly behind her. 

 

She whirled around, feeling the back of her neck prickle. 

 

"Cassie," Tom smiled, weaving just a bit, "you're not leaving are you? You haven't had any cake."

 

"I'm not really in the mood to take a bite of your giant banana, Tom."

 

Tom tried to hold back his laugh but failed. He doubled over with his hands on his knees, his ridiculous blond curls bouncing.

 

"You're funny, Cass. So funny. That's why I like you so much," he gawked openly at her body, "and pretty too. Strike that, you are fucking sexy as hell."

 

The way his eyes raked over her hungrily made all her nerves stand on edge. Her legs went watery and her mouth dry. She felt the telltale tingling of all the available blood in her body rushing to her sex. But, she knew his game and wasn't going to fall for it. This, after all, was Tom.

 

"And you are drunk as hell," she retorted, "Now if you don't mind." 

 

"Oh, don't be like that, Cass," he whined, pouting. Typical Tom.

 

"Why should I stay?" she asked, immediately regretting it.

 

He smiled and raised one eyebrow, walking toward her, "Because you haven't given me my birthday kiss."

 

"You're serious."

 

"Unless you prefer to give me a birthday spanking," he winked at her.

 

Cheeky bastard.

 

"Aren't you seeing someone, Tom? The woman you're in that play with? What's her name?"

 

"Gwen. Sort of. Not really. You're here with Dom, and he's out there snogging some dancer. Meanwhile you're getting your coat."

 

"I told Dominic I was leaving."

 

"Apparently he got the message loud and clear," he had advanced across the room and backed her up against the bureau, still bobbing and weaving. 

 

"That makes one of you."

 

"Alright, I'll behave myself. But I want to tell you a secret," he leaned down to her ear and stage-whispered, "I can't stop thinking about you. About fucking you. I think about it all the time."

 

He took a half step back, poked her on the shoulder and gave a boyish grin, "What do you think of that, Miss?"

 

Cassie refused to take his words at face value. Of course Tom had flirted with her. He flirts with everybody. Would-be lovers, friends, veritable strangers. Her gaze was implacable. "I wonder if you feel that way when you're not wasted."

 

He bit his lip and shook his head slowly, "All the time. When I'm working, when I'm running, when I'm drinking, when I'm in the shower. I think about it a lot in the shower."

 

He winked again punctuating his last comment and continued, his voice dropping,  "When I'm alone in bed at night."

 

His eyes ran across her lips, speaking in a whisper now, "Sometimes even when I'm not alone."

 

Tom caught her chin carefully between his thumb and finger, "Can I kiss you? Please? I really want to."

 

"Tom, I..." she licked her lips.

 

"You see, just that. Just how your little pink tongue wet your lip. You're making it very hard, Cassie."

 

"Hard to what?" she whispered, his closeness was intoxicating. She found herself getting drunk on his breath, losing her will to battle.

 

"Just hard." Tom lifted both brows and caught his lower lip in his teeth.

Despite herself, she laughed, "That's a terrible joke, Tom."

 

"Well, I am drunk." he leaned in to brush his lips over hers. He spoke against her mouth, "and it wasn't a joke."

 

Cassandra relented, opening her mouth to him. Tom wasted no time trying to prove his words to her, his tongue dipping and twisting inside her mouth. She had been prepared to let him take what he wanted just to end this charade of his, but found herself pressing against his lean frame, her hands weaving under his suit jacket in an effort to put less fabric between them. She wound her arms around his back and pulled him tight against her. 

 

He grunted into her mouth and his hand moved to cup her ass through her dress. His mouth dipped to kiss a trail down her neck, one hand sweeping her brown hair aside. He moved to her cleavage, cupping both breasts in his hands  and kneading them, watching the way they moved with eyes of a man half starved. 

 

"Fuck. You are luscious, Cass. All curves. This is why I love older women."

 

Cassie blinked twice and her eyebrows drew together. Older Women?

 

Tom dipped his tongue into the crease of her cleavage, "Jesus fucking Christ you are delicious. God, I want to fuck you so badly."

 

He razed his teeth over the soft flesh. He palmed her ass again and pulled her to him, grinding his cock into her stomach. "Do you feel what I have for you, Cass? How bad I want you?"

 

"Tom..." she muttered, pulling at his jacket, trying to get his attention.

 

"Fuck, why did I have to use my emergency condom earlier?"

 

Cassie's head snapped up at his admission and she shoved him backwards, hard, "That's enough!"

 

"Why? What's wrong? If it's about the condom, we can always do something else.."

 

She snorted, "Really? I get to jerk you off in a glorified coat closet on your birthday. Wow, I'm a lucky girl. Or a lucky older woman."

"Why are you all bent out of shape about that? It was a compliment."

 

"Some compliment. Let me by, Tom. Now."

 

He stepped aside and she walked past.

 

He spoke to her retreating figure, "Listen, if I knew I was going to have a chance to be with you tonight, Cassie. I would have never fucked Gwen before...."

 

"Again, some fucking compliment." 

 

She had left the party after that. The next time she had seen him was in Tahiti. 

 

Tahiti, where he'd worked his magic on her again, making her forget who she was. She laughed ruefully as she thought, not for the first time, that in the end she had let him fuck her without a condom anyway. Not just let, welcomed.

 

It's why she'd had to leave the island, of course. She couldn't trust herself around him. He threw her off. He was an expert in women, and could push her buttons like no other.

 

The man was a menace.

 

Cassie stopped mid-stride and tried to take a calming breath. She was going to see him at the party tonight, and it didn't have to be weird at all. She'd focus on her client, and get the hell out of there. If she ran into Tom, she'd be courteous, of course. What happened in Tahiti wasn't his fault. They were consenting adults. 

 

_Maybe I should wear the Fuck-Me Louboutins..._

 

No, it wouldn't do any good to think like that, she reminded herself. I'm not going to bed with Tom tonight, or ever again. She chewed her lip.

 

But then again, nothing wrong with looking my best.

 

She grabbed the shoes from the closet and tried them on with just her lingerie.  

 

_Yes, definitely the Louboutins._

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Cassandra find each other at the BAFTA pre-party. Tension ensues. No smut in this chapter.

"Nervous about the award, mate?"

Tom glanced at Benedict, “No, man. Not at all, why?”

"You’ve been skittish since you’ve gotten here."

Ben was right, since he had gotten to the party, Tom had been bouncing on his toes as his eyes darted about the crowded room.

Ben smirked at Tom. “It’s a woman isn’t it?”

Tom’s eyes shifted toward his friend, “Why would you say that?’

The other man let out a long sigh, “It’s always a woman.”

"Not always," Tom bristled.

Benedict’s smirk broke into a low chuckle. He raised a hand in defense. “Hey, it’s not just you,” He raised his glass to his lips and spoke into it as his eyes took in the crowd, “It’s the fundamental male state. There is always, always a woman.”

 

Tom smiled uneasily.

Ben smiled and turned to face the opposite direction, still at Tom’s side. “So, who is she?”

Tom wasn’t offering any information. He took a sip of his champagne and kept eyes front.

Not to be dissuaded, Ben pressed on, “It wasn’t that model you were on about, was it?”

"No," Tom answered flatly.

Ben laughed low in his chest, “No, I wouldn’t think so, she seemed … transitory.”

"So where did you meet this mystery woman?"

_Years ago. You probably wouldn’t even believe me if I told you._

"Tahiti."

"But you took the model to Tahiti."

Tom simply downed the rest of the Champagne in response.

Ben couldn’t hold back a full on wolfish smirk. “Oh? Clandestine. I’m impressed.”

Tom averted his gaze to continue scanning the crowd for Cassie. Luke had flat out denied the fact that she would be attending tonight. Then proceeded to warn Tom against involving himself with her for the dozenth time since he’d returned from Tahiti only with increasing zeal.

Conclusion: She was sure to be here.

Apart from the obvious questions he hoped she’d answer, there was a quiet gnawing, one that he didn’t want to acknowledge, not even to himself.

He wanted to see her.

Tom had thought of her often. Thought really was the wrong word. He experienced sensory memories. Walking down the street he’d see a the shimmy of a curvy brunette in a clingy dress and immediately his mind would pull up the image of Cassie.

On more than one occasion, the scent of her fragrances- both her perfume and her more natural feminine bouquet- would come rushing back to him to the point that he could taste her in the place where nose met mouth. That assault on his senses never failed to cause spinning in one head and slow, heavy swelling in another.

It was the sensual part of his mind that latched on to her throaty laugh in the ballroom in that moment. His eyes widened, he could have sworn he felt his pupils dilate as he scanned the place for her. He felt flushed and frankly stupid, looking for her like this. It was only a moment before he turned and saw her, smiling wide, walking slowly toward him hips swaying in that way that made him furious with himself.

He schooled his face into an impassive expression, readying a casual greeting so she wouldn’t flee too soon for his taste, when he heard Benedict’s baritone to his right.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered more to himself than to Tom, "If you’ll excuse me."

Ben gave his glass to a passing cocktail server and took long strides straight to Cassie, before he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her up against his full length and into a warm hug.

Tom grabbed another flute of champagne - it couldn’t hurt in this situation - and watched the subtle cues in body language. Ben released Cassie and his fingers trailed down the length of her bare arm before catching her wrist in his fingers and bringing it up to his mouth for a light but lingering kiss. Cassie reached up with her other hand and brushed and errant hair off Ben’s forehead.

Ben in turn placed a hand on her lower back and guided her toward Tom, her expression blanching as soon as she saw him.

"I don’t know that you two have met," he offered helpfully, his sly smirk replaced with a genuine, if not goofy smile.

Tom wouldn’t say anything, just arched one eyebrow up at her.

_Tell him, Cassie. Tell your lover, or whatever he is, the circumstances of our last meeting._

Cassie opened her mouth and closed it. She affected a smile that was decidedly for Ben and not Tom.

"I know Tom from years back. My old London days," she gave Tom a pointed look. He chuckled once through his nose.

_Whatever you say, darling._

Ben’s goofy grin grew wider, “Really? We should all head to a pub after. You two should get caught up and I know I haven’t seen you since that week in Maui, Cassandra.”

Maui. Tom’s quick mind thought back to when that might had been. Nothing. Save the buzz from the wine and the daggers that Cassie was staring at him.

Don’t tell him, she seemed to be saying. Don’t you dare.

"You know," she rubbed her hand on Ben’s bicep and he turned his attention to her, still smiling that ridiculous smile, "there’s no need for that. I mean…"

Tom interrupted her, “What she’s saying is we’ve had time to catch up recently, haven’t we, Cassie?”

He would have physically flinched at the look she shot at him if he hadn’t been enjoying watching the impervious Cassandra squirm and spin an innocuous tale on the fly.

"Really?" Ben chuckled, "Then I insist. We go out. As friends, don’t worry."

He pecked her on the cheek and bit his bottom lip.

"Ben," She turned her masterful charm on Ben, "that’s not…"

Tom cut her off again, twirling the champagne flute stem between his fingers, gazing at it as if he was considering it deeply, “Sounds great. There’s a place nearby. After we’re done here, we’ll get a pint. You do drink Guinness, don’t you Cassie?”

Ben laughed a little too loudly, “I don’t know about Guinness, but I know she can keep a few beers down.”

He leaned over and sang something softly in her ear earning him a playful slap on the stomach.

Tom looked on and when she met his eyes gave her a look that was incredulous.

Her smiled faltered then burned brighter as she remembered present company.

"I should attend to Patrick," she offered, "Good to see you both."

"You’ll be there later," Ben pressed.

"Yes." she sighed then turned to find her client.

"Cassandra," Ben called after her when she was only a few steps away.

She faced him and he pointed at his cheek, to which she smiled and walked over to him, planting a kiss where he’d requested. She left a lipstick stain which she affectionately wiped off with her manicured thumb.

Ben popped up both eyebrows at her and she giggled then rolled her eyes.

Tom’s reaction was significantly less jolly. Sometimes it was convenient to be an actor.

“So,” he stared into his half full Champagne flute, “Maui?”

“Yes. I met Cassandra when I was on holiday after _Into Darkness_. One of those happy serendipities.”

“I see. Nice, man. And the two of you?” Tom knew the answer by rights even before he asked the question. Just from the way Cassandra’s eyes had softened.

Ben smirked into his drink, the sly devil, “She held my interest.”

****

Three-quarters of an hour later and a little worse for wear, Tom finally laid eyes on an unaccompanied Cassandra.  His mouth was tannic and his eyes already feeling sandy. _This is what you get for mixing wine and liquor, Tommy._

He walked up to her boldly, with no pretense whatsoever, standing inches from her body. He nose wrinkled in what he was sure was a reaction to his pickled breath. Still she managed a cold, but cordial smile.

“Tom.”

He didn’t use her name in greeting. “Maui?”

Her eyebrow shot up in challenge. “Yes, Maui. What of it?”

“You and Benedict.”

“That’s right.”

“And?”

“And I’d say it’s none of your business, Tom.”

“Ah. Of course. So … Tahiti. Maui. You’ve been doing a whole island tour.”

Her glance was cutting. “Only with men that don’t _count_.”

“Ehehehe. I seem to remember otherwise. Seems it counted a great deal, from my vantage point anyway.”

“How nice for you. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Cassandra took three steps before Tom called after her.

“Cassie.”

She didn’t stop.

“Cassie.”

She whirled around on her heel, “What?”

Tom sauntered over to her, and for just the barest moment she looked at him with eyes blazing and lips parted as if she expected him to press his lips against hers in a kiss. As he reached her, he dipped his head, his warm mouth brushing her ear.

“Perhaps you’d like to duck with me into the coat room, Cass. For old time’s sake.”

He saw the warm flush race up her neck until it bloomed on her face. Her eyes were stormy as she turned her head to look up at him. His bold gaze dropped to her mouth.

“Enjoy the party, darling,” he refused to tear his eyes away from that full bottom lip - the lip now quivering just this shy of rage. He allowed his tongue to sneak out and moisten his own lip, then his grin broke the heated moment as he met her murderous glare.

He gave her a cheeky wink, “See you later at the pub.”


End file.
